A/N: I SWEAR I WILL HOLD TO THIS.
Anyways, I wanna try and write once a day. That might not mean a fic every day, but we'll see! Even just little, cutesie things like this.
Enjoy!
It was all supposed to be a natural, boring, plain, ugh kind of day. There wasn't supposed to be any excitement, and April was going to enjoy the calm for once, but in reality there's always a few speed bumps when Andy's involved. He goads her into such childish things she's already ninety-nine percent of the way towards doing, though each time a little less openly hostile, and their current activity de jure was, of course, tossing french fries at people walking past the shoeshine stand.
By the time Leslie walks by, there's already been three or four complaints. Some about the fries, one or two about the obscene sexual conduct happening in City Hall, but all in all it's a nice day.
It's nice.
Andy takes his time balancing the coffee cups in his arms. Despite the carriers, he's still handling seven cups of coffee.
Newsflash Pawnee, he thinks as he kicks one of the doors to Parks open, Dwyer's too badass to drop a little-
And then Andy manages to trip over his own foot, skip past scorching April with the coffee (Good save, dude he thought later) and ended up splashing the whole mess somewhere between Donna, Jerry, and the floor.
"Hey," Andy calls out, plopping down onto one of the high chairs at his Awesome Shoeshinery.
"What'd you get?" April groans, her stomachache from before clearly not settled.
"Well, when I've got tummy problems I always eat a bowl of chocolate ice cream so-"
"Ugh," April moans and turns into a curled ball in her chair.
"So I got you a small bowl, and we're going to take these spoons," Andy stops and digs a spoon out of the little plastic bag, brandishing it for April, "and then we're gonna fling all of it at everyone that walks by."
April's sour mood turns into a small smile, then later melts into a giggly fit infrequently interrupted by a rough gurgle from her gut. But the laughter seems like great medicine, and Andy can only pat himself on the back. That is, until they're halfway through the bowl and, having pelted Jamm three times already, were expecting to get a lot more mileage out of this little lunch-turned-hooky-turned-bullshit.
April cocked the spoon back, the fourth one they'd gone through (Andy made sure to have replacements from the Dairy Queen in the bag, too, duh) and preemptively shot a small ball of brown soft-serve towards a window.
"Oh, w-"
But before Andy could finish, April had already loosed her volley. Just as she realizes what she's done, her eyes grow wide and she turns to stare at Andy.
They both burst into laughter.
Ron, however, only heaves a great sigh and wipes the chocolate from his cheek.